


First Kisses

by deux_lunes



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 07:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deux_lunes/pseuds/deux_lunes
Summary: When you're thirteen, kissing is the most important thing in the world.Originally posted on Livejournal.





	First Kisses

When you’re thirteen, kissing is the most important thing in the world. Every day and every night is consumed with the thoughts of pressing your lips against another’s, of letting your tongue slide out and touch someone else’s, of letting your hands roam through their hair and over their back, of making them blush and smile and tell you that they love you.

I was almost fourteen and I’d never kissed anyone.

Each night, I lay awake and imagined what it would be like, wondering if I’d be any good at it. I thought about Mary who sat across from me in school, the pretty blonde girl who almost every boy thought about kissing. I thought about starlets like Brigitte Bardot and Marilyn Monroe, who would certainly know much more than Mary or me… Sometimes with Peter snoring in the bed next to me, I would press my lips against my pillow and pretend it was a girl instead.

Paul didn’t have the same problem I did. He may have still had his fat baby cheeks, but he could kiss any girl he wanted. He was confident, he was funny and talkative, he knew how to flirt. When I was interested in a girl, I just sat there like a dumb git (or alternatively talked entirely too much), and she wouldn’t give me the time of day. I had to ask Paul for advice.

“How do you do it?” I asked, adding no preamble to my question.

Paul looked up at me from the floor, confused. He was fiddling around with my guitar like he always did when he was over here. “It’s easy, you put one hand on the neck and the other—”

“No, not the guitar.” I lay down on the bed front-wise, pretending to be very interested in my duvet. “I mean… girls.”

“Oh.” Paul turned his attention back to the guitar. “I dunno, mate. Just compliment them and don’t be ugly, that’s all I can say.”

“But I’ve tried that!” I exclaimed. “I try to be as nice as possible but it doesn’t work!” A terrifying realization wormed its way into my brain. “Am I ugly…?”

Paul groaned. “I don’t know, I’m not queer! I don’t know if you’re ugly.”

“That’s stupid, you can tell if a bloke’s ugly or not and not be queer.” The anxiety in my stomach felt like a stone, the sick heavy feeling of knowing you’re ugly. “Is it my ears? Am I too skinny?”

My older friend put my guitar down on the floor beside him and looked up at me. “Look. You’re not ugly, George, okay? Really. If I _was_ queer, then you’d be the first one I’d want.” 

“…Really?” I couldn’t help but grin at that. “I’d be the first one, huh?”

Paul blushed a little bit, but grinned back at me. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“No, no, it is a big deal! Out of _all_ the men in the world, you’d go queer for me! Not even Elvis or anything!”

“I didn’t say that I’d turn queer for you, I just said if I was queer! And come on, it’s not like I could get Elvis into bed with me. I have to be realistic about these sort of things.”

“Still, out of everyone in Liverpool or even everyone at school. I’m flattered.” I batted my eyes flirtingly at him, and he half-heartedly tried to sock me. “Do you think anyone’s actually queer for me?”

“Only me, probably.”

“What about for you then? Think any boys are wanking off thinking about you?” I laughed as Paul visibly twitched.

“Can’t blame them if they are,” he sniffed. “I mean, look at me. Girl or boy, people want me.” He paused, then glanced up at me. “Have you… thought about it?”

“About who’s wanking off to you? Can’t say that I have.”

“No, you twit. About kissing… guys.”

I froze, not wanting to admit to anything that could incriminate me. “You first.”

“I… Kind of. I had a dream one time.”

“Really?” Paul wasn’t usually so open about these sorts of things, and I was curious. “What happened?”

After a second, Paul scrambled onto the bed too, lying beside me like we were a couple of girls telling each other our secrets. “It was about two months ago,” he said quietly, his voice sealing me to secrecy. “I was in the coat room at school, but it was nighttime, no one else was there. Suddenly, he was there with me, and ‘cause I knew we were alone… I kissed him.” 

I inhaled shakily, unsure of the feelings that were crawling like spider legs throughout my body. “What happened then?”

Paul wouldn’t look at me. “We, uhm, we…” His cheeks were red. “You promise you’re not gonna tell?” I nodded earnestly. “We… wanked each other.”

“Was it good?”

“’Course it was good, it was a bloody dream, George!” He huffed and puffed angrily, but he didn’t mean it in his eyes. “It’s just…. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I think about it sometimes,” I confessed. “Just sometimes. I mean, I like girls, but I get on better with guys. And I bet they’re more likely to know what you like, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Paul subtly shifted closer to me. “Do you think about anyone in particular?”

“Not really… Do you?” 

“Just the boy from my dream.”

“Is he real?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Who is it?” I asked, truly intrigued. “Do I know him?”

“Think ya do.” Before I could react, Paul leaned forward to press his lips against mine, and before I even registered what happened, he was already pulling away from me. He sat up on the edge of my bed, not saying a word but the blush covering his cheeks said more than enough.

“Paul…?”

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I just wanted to see what it was like, you know? I’m sorry, George.”

I sat on edge of the bed as well; Paul still wouldn’t look at me. “Do you want to do it again?” I asked him, licking my lips nervously. “I want to know too.”

My friend glanced at me, his big brown eyes wide and he bit his lip. “Do you really?”

I nodded, not trusting my vocal cords to keep steady. Paul put his trembling hand on my cheek, an experimental touch to make sure I wasn’t fooling him. I just wanted to feel his lips on mine again. Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed me softly, and I was finally doing the thing I had dreamt about every day for the last year of my life.

Neither of us was brave enough to get closer to the other, so we sat there awkwardly, our legs dangling off the side of the bed. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, I wasn’t sure if you were allowed to run them through a boy’s hair or over his back, so I clenched them nervously in my lap. My lips were tight and inflexible as Paul kept his against mine, no matter how much I wanted them to part.

Paul pulled back, looking deeply into my eyes. “George, relax,” he whispered, scootching closer to me and putting his hand on the back of my head. 

“I’m trying,” I murmured, embarrassed by my lack of inherent talent. “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be.” He gave me a sweet reassuring smile before kissing me again. I forced my hands out of my lap and shyly wrapped my arms around Paul’s shoulders. He let out a loud exhale through his nose and moved even closer to me. His lips slightly parted and his tongue poked my lips softly. Scared as I was, I managed to open my lips and let our tongues meet. Suddenly, there was a fire burning in my belly as Paul and I began to snog unabashedly. There was a reason why Paul was able to kiss any girl he wanted, and I was thrilled to find the reason why. His hands buried themselves deep in my hair, pulling me closer to him. I wasn’t so filled with anxiety anymore, letting quiet moans fall into my friend’s mouth. I could feel myself getting embarrassingly hard, something that happened quite a lot these days, but from the way Paul was kissing me, I didn’t think he would mind.

“I’m home!” The loud cry and slam of the front door made Paul and I jump away from each other. My brother would more than likely be bursting through our bedroom door any minute, and we were obviously guilty of something, our cheeks flushed, lips swollen and trousers much too tight. 

“You okay?” Paul asked quietly.

I nodded. “Yeah. I… really liked that though.” I smiled shyly at him, and he returned it sweetly.

“We should do this again,” he whispered, and leaned forward close enough to kiss me once again. 

“I think so too…” I was about to kiss him, but Peter’s heavy feet were mounting the stairs quickly, so we broke away from each other. I slid to the floor and quickly placed my guitar over my erection just as Peter opened the door.

“Hey kids,” he said, flopping onto his bed. “Staying out of trouble?”

“I better get going, George,” Paul said, jumping off my bed. “I promised my dad that I’d be home for dinner. Do you…” He trailed off, and glanced nervously at my brother. “Do you want to get together tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that’d be gear.” I tried not to grin too widely.

“Great. See you then.” He smiled at me and stole one last look at my mouth and how my guitar was resting in my lap. “Bye, George, bye, Peter!” He ran out the door and I could hear him saying his goodbyes to the rest of my family as he made his way out. 

“What’d you guys do today?” Peter asked.

“Just stuff.” I started to tune my guitar, already messed up from Paul’s meddling, and Peter left me alone.

Late that night, when I was sure my brother was fast asleep, I kissed my pillow softly, no longer pretending it was any pretty blonde girl. I pretended it was my best friend, his gentle lips against mine, his fingers in my hair and his loving smile that I caused. 

The End


End file.
